jump, and fate will not follow
by Grim Lupine
Summary: Sometimes one chance is all you get. Sometimes you get more. //oneshot// //GeneFinny//


Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me.

Notes: A few lines of dialogue are taken directly from the book.

* * *

_is this the world you want?_

gene wakes, chest heaving, scrabbling at his sheets to kick them off. he gasps quietly for breath, rubs at his eyes to erase the vivid images burned into them. finny is sitting up in bed, looking at him with confusion, and gene has to stare at him for a moment before he actually sees _this_ finny, doesn't see the one in his dream. they blur together in his mind—finny with his sheets around his waist, hair tousled with sleep; finny lying broken, small, at the foot of the tree. the concerned puzzlement on finny's shadowy face; the still, near-dead paleness he has, crumpled in his fall.

"what is it?" finny whispers, breaking the quiet, and gene shakes his head, rubs a hand over his face.

"nothing," he says, "nothing." he pauses. "maybe we shouldn't go to the tree tomorrow."

there is silence in which gene determinedly doesn't look at finny, though he doesn't think he could see much in the oppressive darkness, anyway.

"all right," finny says gently, and the bed creaks as he lies back down, rustles the sheets as he pulls them up. "good night."

"good night," gene mumbles. he lies awake for the rest of the night.

* * *

_is this the world you want?_

the frantic breath gene inhales upon jolting out of sleep lodges in his throat; he chokes on it and coughs, and finds he can't catch his breath again.

"hey, hey," finny's voice is worried, "calm down. what's wrong?" his hand lies warm on gene's back.

gene forces his breathing to slow, leans forward to tighten a hand around finny's arm. the depths of his mind is a frightening place; he sees finny alive and vivid in front of his eyes, and feels the ache in his chest from a vision of him lying wan in a hospital bed, anger and anguish twisting his face into something painful. The words _your friend is dead _reverberate in his ears.

"finny," gene says, and winces at the way his voice cracks. "you—" he breaks off, looks down at the grip he has on finny's arm. "it's all right," he says, "i'm all right, you can go back to sleep." but he can't bring himself to let go.

finny's silence says worlds. he pushes at gene's chest until he's lying down, says lightly, "and i suppose you expect me to go all the way back to my bed, huh? not a chance, pal. you woke me up, you'll just have to share. move over."

gene slides over, releases finny's arm and feels his eyes sting when phineas tugs the sheets up around them. "good night," finny whispers without a trace of awkwardness, as if it is a normal occurrence for him to lie close to gene, close enough that his breath washes over gene's neck when he exhales. in the dark of night, with finny's quiet comfort lying next to him, gene doesn't find it unusual either; they share clothing and beach trips and jumps off of trees, this is nothing more.

"good night," gene murmurs, inches slightly to the side so that his shoulder is touching finny's. this time, he falls asleep.

* * *

_is this the world you want?_

a quieter awakening, this time, but no less painful. gene kicks his way sharply out of sleep, draws in a shaking breath and presses a hand to his chest. it _hurts_, raw like an open wound. he doesn't remember much about this dream, except that finny was dead and gene was living a life that wasn't any kind of life at all. he shivers with the memory of the numb misery that had taken hold of his soul, the lifeless way with which he went through his days. a world without phineas and his vitality, his unbridled joy, is not a world worth living in.

"you've got to stop this, you know," finny says casually from his bed. "_i _don't need my beauty sleep to look this wonderful, but i guess you do."

"finny, how do you feel about me? really?" gene asks desperately. the question explodes out of him unexpectedly, but once it is out in the air he feels oddly relieved.

he can hear finny's silent consideration working in the stillness of their room, and he makes a fist of the hand on his chest and stares unblinkingly at the ceiling.

"well, you're my best friend, of course," finny finally says with conviction, then laughs brightly. "i mean, you have to know that, gene. there wouldn't be a damn person worth talking to in this school if it weren't for you. you're my best friend."

and there it is, it's all gene has wanted to hear. it should make him happy to have that acknowledgment from phineas, the one every boy wants as his friend. instead, it leaves him a little empty, dissatisfied—he wanted—he _wants_—

* * *

morning comes stealthily, creeping sunlight upon their faces like a kiss. they dress in silence as phineas yawns periodically and runs a hand through his hair. gene looks down as he does up his buttons, molding himself into the stoic and model student with every little plastic round that slips into place. he studies himself in the mirror, dark-eyed and pale, and feels finny's presence behind him like the sun.

"i wasn't entirely honest with you last night," finny says suddenly, clasping his hands together in a nervous gesture. "i didn't lie to you but i didn't tell you the whole truth either." gene stares at him uncomprehendingly as finny continues, "i told you that you're my best friend, but i didn't tell you that i love you. and i do, so it was wrong of me not to tell you, because i tell you everything else, you know."

gene hears the words but doesn't understand their meaning at first, mind blank. finny ducks his head, looks up at him earnestly and asks, "do you forgive me?" and gene cannot tell if he means for gene to forgive him for his silence, or for loving him in the first place.

there is a distant buzzing in his ears, a spreading warmth in his chest that takes hold of him, that moves him forward step by step. finny looks nervous and hopeful and earnest, and beautiful. his shoulders are strong where gene takes them in his grasp, and his mouth warm and soft against gene's. the parting of finny's lips tastes like every test gene's done perfectly, every reckless jump he's made into the river; it tastes like fulfillment and a heated victory.

gene finds the promise of new beginnings in the quick rise-and-fall of finny's chest, the pounding beat of his heart.

* * *

"we'll go together, a double jump!" finny says with palpable enthusiasm, lean and golden and vibrant. gene follows him up the tree, lost in the hazy feeling of being in a dream, between _i've done this before _and _no, no, i haven't. i haven't_.

"come out a little way, and then we'll jump side by side." finny is smiling happily, contagiously, and gene looks from his outstretched hand to the winding river below. he can hear his pulse beating in his ears; this moment is important. he feels it in his bones.

finny laughs, asks him what he's thinking about, "so serious on a day like this?"

gene smiles. "dreams," he says, and takes finny's hand, and jumps.

the splash of their bodies hitting the water sounds like the thwarting of fate.

-Fin-


End file.
